I will NEVER get to do ANYTHING I need another person to do it with me.
I really hope I get that.
It means I have to give up some dreams. Losing the hope of ever getting those things hurts like hell.
But - there are others.
I can get fit and slender and agile.
I can learn to dance and martial arts and all that. It doesn't matter if I do it "right", because I'll never do it with someone else. It's just the idea of doing it, the feeling in your body when you do it... like flying... and for that I don't need to do it "right". No-one needs to ever see me and get horrified by how ugly I am doing it and how "wrong" I do it.
I can learn all those languages. And I can go out there and chat with people, and I don't need to care one bit if they even understand me, because they wouldn't. Then, maybe, if some of them did...
And I don't need someone to travel. I can save my little money, if I don't get more, and take the time it takes, I'll get there.
I can learn to sing.
Then some ranting, because I was at Pinterest, and spotted these two pins, and they made me furious.
I would be proud of being size 4, after having been size 12 or bigger since I was... like... 17 or something. For me it would be an accomplishment. It would be because of hard work. (Though I don't want to be size 4. I'd like to be size 8.)
BTW, I do want to get slender and fit and agile because I think it's more beautiful than what I am now.
I hate my belly pouch. I hate my knees and the sacking skin. I hate my upper arms. I hate my double-chin. I hate my breasts. I hate my thighs, I hate my hips, I hate my thick neck. I hate my excess fat. I hate how they look, I hate how they feel and I hate how they make me feel.
I want to look at me in the mirror and like everything I see, and I know I like slender and fit more than fat and unfit. Ok, I have been brainwashed by the society when it comes to beauty. And?
But - how ever weird it might sound to you - I love my body. I love the fact that it's still doing what it's supposed to do, even after 25 years of abuse I've put it through. I love the feeling of dancing and walking and running and jumping and I love it how my body can do that.
I love my hands and I'm amazed by their ability to just rattle away touch typing, as they do right now... Amazing.
I love my eyes that see, nose that smells, mouth that tastes, ears that hear and skin that feels. Skin is such an amazing organ anyway... Just... wow...
I hate this.
It's created by people who are anorectic, either with eating or exercising - or both,
and trying to recover and "be sober".
I have full compassion and I wish they'll succeed, but -
I am not responsible for how you read my pins.
I don't need to think how someone else reacts on things I pin.
I am not supposed to either.
The rest of the world is not supposed to shelter you from your triggers.
YOU are supposed to do that.
And it would be hell lot better if you actually figured out what triggers you,
and learned to handle it.
I exercise to lose weight.
I'm f-ing overweight, and diet and exercise is the ONLY healthy way to lose weight.
So, yes, I do exercise to burn calories.
I exercise to get nice muscles, so that I can do what I want to do.
That they also look nice, even when they are not perfect, is a plus for me,
and a clear motivation.
I'm not exercising to get "perfect abs", because I can't.
I won't ever be perfect or beautiful.
But it's hell lot better to be slender and fit and ugly, than to be fat, unfit and ugly.
And, yeah, I would like liking more of the things I see in the mirror.
So that I don't need to... try to avoid mirrors on bad days, or try to avoid "bad spots", and stay focused on the "good" ones on good days. Or try to get away from the mirrors, or staring at myself for hours trying to figure out what's wrong with me, what's the thing that makes me ugly and that I could perhaps fix.
I exercise for two reasons - to become able to do all the things I want to do, like dance, and climb and jump and all that.
And because my lifestyle has made me sick, and it's killing me.
I NEED to lose weight and get fit to LIVE.
And I don't give a dime WHY I save my life.
Because YOU are not going to do it.
And, yes, I am obsessed by beauty.
I have BDD for fuck's sake!
Yes, I know it's a mental disorder, meaning that I'm "sick".
I know my obsession is "sick" and my idea of what is beautiful is "sick" and my efforts to be beautiful are "sick".
It's a mental disorder just like anorexia nervosa or anorexia athletica.
How does shaming you for having it work for you?